


The Downton Express

by Fourticktock



Category: Cranford - All Media Types, Downton Abbey, Return to Cranford
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Family Drama, Jealousy, Misunderstanding, jane austen inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2455235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourticktock/pseuds/Fourticktock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Downton Abbey set in the 1830s and crossed with events from Return to Cranford. </p><p>The railroad is coming to Downton, but not if Lord Grantham can stop it! He refuses to sell his land to the railway company. Lady Edith meets a young apprentice working at the railway, William Buxton. It turns out he's actually the son of a wealthy salt merchant, who is also at odds with the railway. She makes it her mission to discover why a young man with a promising future is slaving away at the railroad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, another plot bunny was demanded by my sister, Rokkis. This will be a short one so other stories will resume shortly. All blame to her, please. :) 
> 
> All historical errors are due to me not being an expert on the period, or me assuming too much historical accuracy in the respective shows. I've not read the Cranford books. The story is also inspired a bit by various Jane Austen novels and other Gaskell writings. 
> 
> There might be a bit of Mary bashing. This is not because I dislike her character, but because I want this particular story to be Edith-focused and friendly. It's her turn to shine.

‘Why on earth do you read that picnic rag?’ Lady Mary commented at the breakfast table. Lady Sybil ignored her, nose firmly planted in her reading. 

‘It’s the Pickwick Papers,’ Lady Edith corrected. ‘It’s quite entertaining actually.’ Mary rolled her eyes. ‘Perhaps you should read it for yourself before you judge.’ 

‘Good heavens,’ Lord Robert commented as he scanned his letter. ‘The poor chap won’t give up.’ 

‘Who won’t?’ Edith asked. 

‘Mr. Whitby. He is visiting the area for reconnaissance and begs an audience.’ 

‘So, it’s really happening?’ Sybil put down her paper. ‘The railway is coming to Downton?’ 

‘It is doing nothing of the sort.’ Lord Robert turned slightly in his chair to give a commiserating glance to Carson, who was frowning heavily at the news. ‘The railway is nothing but a noisome, disgusting fad. They will run out of money before they get twenty miles outside of Downton.’ Carson calmed at Lord Robert’s vehement objections, though the ladies all exchanged knowing glances. None of them tried arguing against their father’s stubbornness. 

‘You should meet with him, Papa,’ Lady Sybil said. ‘If you don’t he might never give up.’ 

‘That is a possibility,’ Lord Robert said darkly. ‘I may have to, if only to tell him I’m not selling one square foot of land to the railway!’ 

XXX 

‘What are you two up to?’ Lady Edith and Sybil jumped slightly at Lady Mary’s sudden appearance. 

‘We’re going to have a look at the railroad,’ Sybil said, letting Thomas help her put on her coat. She tied her bonnet ribbon in a nice bow, helping Edith do the same. 

‘Papa will be furious.’ 

‘Only if you tell him,’ Edith said archly. Mary narrowed her eyes, then ordered Thomas to get her coat. 

It was a fine day for an open-top carriage ride. Tom the coachman did not need much convincing, wanting to see the railroad for himself. Sybil and Edith discussed the possible routes it might take, while Mary kept silent. 

As they crested a hill they saw the enormous work area, with the railroad splitting it in half, stopping abruptly where many men were hard at work. 

‘How horrifying,’ Mary said, gazing at the wide area that had been cleared. The usually beautiful green field was almost completely reduced to dirt and puddles. There were piles of equipment and materials, wood and steel, waiting to be laid down. At one edge of the area were tents made for the workers and foreman. Horses and carts went to and fro, moving dirt away and more railroad to where it was needed. It was an anthill of activity. 

‘I think it’s amazing,’ Sybil said. 

‘Just think of how much planning and work it takes to get everything here and fixed at the right spot.’ 

‘Let’s get closer. Tom, drive down.’ 

‘Are you mad?’ Mary protested, but Tom was already urging the horses on. 

They stopped at the edge of the area, and Sybil was already down before Tom could offer her his hand. Edith followed, but Mary remained stubbornly in the carriage. Edith wasn’t quite as fearless as Sybil, who strolled over the muddy ground without a care in the world, marvelling at the work. 

‘Sybil!’ Edith cried as she was being left behind. She lifted her frock to avoid a puddle. She did not like the thought of Sybil wandering into a work area alone. The men seemed oblivious to her, so far, but it could be dangerous. Luckily, Tom the coachman ran after her. Edith calmed a little at that and glanced behind her to make sure Mary was still sitting stiffly in the carriage. 

She spotted a young man walking in a straight line towards her, a strange wheel in front of him. He was focused entirely on his task, and by the way he walked it was clear he was keeping careful record of how the wheel moved. 

He was almost upon her when he finally glanced up to make sure he was still walking straight. 

‘Oh! Forgive me My Lady, I didn’t see you.’ He bowed slightly and removed his hat. He was far too handsome for a railroad worker. His golden hair curled down to his chin, his eyes shone bright blue and he smiled so kindly Edith felt her heart skip a beat. Apart from his dirty clothes and a smudge of dirt on his cheek, he had the appearance and grace of a perfect gentleman. 

‘No, forgive me, I’m the one in your way.’ She stepped without looking, and had to sidestep in the middle of the movement to avoid a puddle. ‘Oh!’ She unbalanced, but before she would fall gracelessly in the mud a hand shot out to steady her. He had no trouble stepping into the puddle for her. His heavy work boots protected him. He wore no gloves, and as their hands clutched Edith noted how soft his were, apart from one ugly callous on the index finger. 

‘Easy, My Lady. I think I better escort you back to your carriage. This place isn’t safe.’ 

‘Yes, we’ve been rather reckless.’ She didn’t want to let go, but it would be improper to keep hold of him now she was steady on her feet. ‘We were just so curious about the railroad.’ 

‘It is quite the sight, isn’t it?’ The man grinned as he looked over the scene before them. There was such passion in his eyes. 

‘Are you the foreman?’ She knew she shouldn’t engage him in conversation. They hadn’t been introduced, but she had to know his name. Asking him his occupation would surely force him to introduce himself. 

‘Me? No, I’m just a humble apprentice. Forgive me,’ he gave another bow. ‘William Buxton, at your service.’ 

‘I’m Lady Edith Crawley.’ He smiled in recognition. 

‘From Downton?’

‘Yes.’ 

‘We better get going, My Lady,’ Tom said. He and Lady Sybil were back from their adventure, and Edith was forced to say goodbye to Mr. Buxton. He bowed again as they left. 

Once the ladies were back in the carriage, Mary gave them a lecture. Edith barely heard them. 

‘And you, talking to a worker!’ 

‘He wasn’t a worker,’ Edith corrected. ‘He was an apprentice.’ 

‘As if that matters.’ Edith did not bother to argue more. 

XXX 

‘I am astonished by all three of you,’ Lord Robert thundered. Edith desperately wished Carson would announce dinner was served. ‘Three young ladies alone at the railroad?!’ 

‘We were just looking, Papa,’ Sybil said reasonably. ‘We didn’t even speak to anyone.’ 

‘Edith did,’ Mary pointed out, of course. Edith shot her a look of betrayal, but Mary just shrugged back as if to say Edith had it coming. ‘She spoke to a workman.’ 

‘He was an apprentice.’ 

‘I can’t hear more of this,’ Robert said, putting a hand to his forehead and turning away towards the fireplace as though he might faint. 

‘Come now,’ their mother said reasonably. ‘There was no harm done and it won’t happen again.’ 

‘It most certainly won’t!’ 

‘We can still go see it when it opens in Downton, right?’ Sybil asked. 

‘It is not coming to Downton!’ 

‘But think of the convenience. It will be so much easier to get to London.’ 

‘Is that all you young ladies think about? How quickly you can get to London? I have half a mind to cancel the whole season and keep you all here as punishment.’ This produced a lot of tittering and pleading, and Robert relented almost immediately so the noise would cease. Luckily for all of them, Carson came into the library and announced dinner. They all gratefully spent the meal discussing the coming season. 

The next day the three ladies walked to Downton as they often did. Mary and Sybil chatted about the new fashions they had to get for the season, and which of the young bachelors Mary would catch. ‘What about Patrick?’ Sybil asked. Mary dismissed her, saying a little flirting never hurt anyone. Patrick hadn’t even proposed properly yet. 

Edith kept looking south, imagining where the railroad might cut through the landscape. She could not deny that Mr. Buxton’s beautiful face often invaded her thoughts. She hardly noticed entering Downton, and she didn’t see Mary and Sybil disappearing into the draper’s shop. She was halfway round the town square before she realised she was alone. It was then she noticed Mr. Buxton coming out of the post office. He was much cleaner today, though his clothes were still a little worn, the tan colour of his coat slightly darker than it was suppose to be. 

He spotted her almost immediately, and he smiled. He even had nice teeth, she thought. He took off his bowler hat and nodded good morning. 

‘Lady Edith.’ 

‘Mr. Buxton.’ She knew she should just leave it at that, a simple hello as they passed on the street, but her mouth ran away from her. Her question forced him to stop. ‘How is work on the railway?’ 

‘As good as can be expected.’ 

‘I suppose Mr. Whitby is worrying about the entry into Downton?’ Mr. Buxton looked surprised that she was informed about the situation. 

‘You have hit the nail on the head, My Lady. We are surveying alternative routes.’ 

‘You mean the railway might go around Downton altogether?’ Just as Mr. Buxton nodded, Edith spotted Mary and Sybil walking determinedly towards them. ‘Excuse me, Mr. Buxton, it was nice to see you again.’ He hurriedly bowed as she walked away. She hoped he didn’t take offence. Mary and Sybil still got a good look at him, but Edith was spared the indignity of introductions. 

‘Was that the workman from yesterday?’ Mary asked, craning her neck to see. 

‘He isn’t a workman. He told me the railroad might circumvent Downton altogether if they can’t get the land from Papa.’ 

‘He introduced himself?’ Mary asked, appalled. 

‘He rescued me from a nasty fall. It seemed rude not to know his name.’ Mary wasn’t interested enough to get the name from Edith. She turned her nose up at the conversation between Edith and Sybil about the tragedy of the railroad not coming into Downton. 

After some more shopping for ribbons, they returned home. As they were taking their coats off in the hall, they heard voices from the library. Just then the doors opened and a short, round man with a handlebar moustache walked out with a grim look. He stopped short at the ladies, bowed awkwardly, and continued out the door, grabbing his coat on the way without putting it on. 

Curiosity made them enter the library, finding their father and a man in deep conversation, seated across each other by the fireplace. The new man was grey-haired, with a matching full beard. He had dignity about him, though he puffed himself up slightly in a way that suggested he had not been born with the level of privilege he was now enjoying. 

They both rose at the ladies’ entrance. Their father made the introduction. Edith was surprised at the name, Mr. John Buxton. Apparently, he was the second wealthiest man in the county, after Lord Grantham himself. Something about a salt mine. He owned a bit of land on the other side of Downton and had come to the Abbey to discuss the railroad. They had obviously never had the opportunity to meet socially before. He was “new money” after all, but now he had the perfect way to at last become acquainted with His Lordship. They had been introduced while in London through Lord Grantham’s solicitor, whose business it was to know every detail about the railway’s plans. 

Mr. Whitby, the man who had rushed out, wanted to buy land from one of them, so that the railroad could come into Downton from one side or the other. He had little luck, as the two land-owners were united in their hatred of the railway. 

William Buxton had to be his son, Edith reasoned, but why would the son of a wealthy salt merchant take on an apprenticeship at the railroad? Fortunately Mr. Buxton was staying for luncheon so Edith could have the opportunity to ask him. She decided to make it her little mission to work out exactly why William Buxton preferred the dirt of the railroad. There had to be a story there! 

Lord Robert had taken a shine to the man, despite his mercantile endeavours, and Edith hoped they could be acquainted with the whole family despite the social inequality between them. Times were changing, however, and the new rich class would have to socialize with the rest of them at some point. Histories could always be overlooked when there was enough money, as their grandmother always said. 

As they ate, Edith was seated next to Buxton. Mary was probably more than glad to be spared the indignity. 

‘Do you have family Mr. Buxton?’ Edith asked. 

‘My life is a lonely one, I’m afraid, Lady Edith. My wife passed this last spring.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’

‘Thank you. I have a ward, but she is away to be educated in Brussels.’ 

‘How exciting for her. But you haven’t a child of your own?’ 

Mr. Buxton cleared his throat and took a deep gulp of his wine before he answered. ‘I have a son, William, but he is away as well.’ Edith knew to steer the conversation to another topic, and asked him about his business, which he was more than happy to talk about. Edith didn’t find it difficult to be interested in the salt trade, because every detail of Mr. Buxton’s life was a key to William Buxton. 

Edith felt like a spy. For once she had something that was completely her own. The others had no clue that the lowly workman she had deigned to speak to was actually the heir to a “salt empire” as Buxton boasted bashfully. Edith did make it clear to herself, however, that she was only interested in William Buxton’s story, not anything else about him. 

After luncheon they said goodbye to Mr. Buxton, with a last promise to stand firm against the railway with Lord Robert. 

‘You were very good with Mr. Buxton today, Edith,’ Cora said as they relaxed in the salon. 

‘You’d do well in the salt trade, I think,’ Mary said snidely. Edith ignored her. She felt invincible now that she had a secret. Mary noticed she didn’t get a proper reaction, and tried again. ‘Apparently he’s a widower. You should strike while the iron is hot.’ 

‘Mary,’ Cora warned. 

‘It’s a shame he is so set against the railroad,’ Sybil said. 

‘He’s even older than father,’ Edith said. ‘It will be up to the next generation to see that progress is made.’ 

‘But what if it’s too late by then? If the railroad never comes to Downton-’ 

‘There’s nothing we can do about it,’ Cora said, tired of the conversation. ‘Your father’s mind is quite made up.’ The ladies sighed at the futility of further argument. 

XXX 

Edith took an early walk the next day. She knew it was too far to walk all the way to the railroad, but she wanted to walk along the southern border of the estate so get an idea of how close the tracks could come. 

The area was hilly, with a little path winding through. The woods obscured any view she might have of the railroad, and by the time she thought she was close to the edge of the estate she had regretted walking so far alone. The woods were well-known to her, but these days there were many strangers about. She heard voices down below where she knew the road ran through the forest. The little path she was on would intersect with the road if she continued down the slope diagonally. 

‘We’ve gone too far.’ Was that William Buxton’s voice? In her haste to get a look she slipped down the muddy path, but kept on her feet, throwing herself around a tree to stop her descent. ‘Hello?’ 

Down below she could see the road, and William Buxton coming into view. His face was open, his curls slightly damp from the morning air, and he looked like he had been walking briskly. 

‘Hello, Mr. Buxton,’ she said, still clinging to the tree. ‘We meet again just as I’m about to fall in the mud.’ 

‘Lady Edith,’ Mr. Buxton cried, alarmed at her predicament. He threw some rolled up papers to his companion, and shot up the narrow path, using the steep hill to his right and trees to his left to haul himself up and not slip in the mud. He was somehow even more handsome when he was alarmed on her behalf. ‘Are you all right?’ 

‘I’m fine. The tree caught me this time.’ He smiled at her, reaching out to offer her his hand. She took it, regretting wearing gloves. He slowly helped her down to the road. Once on firmer footing she noticed a man who reminded her distinctly of Carson, only he wore clothes Downton’s butler would not be seen in. They were dirty from work, but kept in good condition. He had the same sort of tan coat Mr. Buxton wore, but instead of a bowler hat he wore a wide-brimmed one. He bowed as Mr. Buxton introduced him as Captain Brown, the overseer, under whose tutelage William was apprenticing. 

‘Good morning, Lady Edith,’ he said formally, bowing low and taking off his hat. 

‘Good morning. Are you by any chance surveying the area for alternative routes?’ 

‘We are indeed, My Lady,’ Captain Brown said. ‘But Mr. Buxton says we are in danger of trespassing on Lord Grantham’s land.’ Captain Brown was holding several rolled up maps. Mr. Buxton hastily took them back. Edith marvelled at how accommodating he was, considering he had probably grown up in a household closer to hers than Captain Brown’s. 

‘You are, the border of the estate is just at the top of this hill. The road has generally been used as a border marker, until you come to the brook.’ She pointed in its direction, and the two railway men consulted the maps. It was decided Mr. Buxton had been correct and they had walked too far. Lady Edith offered to walk them to the point on the map they wanted to reach: a swampy area a little south of them. 

‘I know this place like the back of my hand,’ she assured them. ‘We used to play there as children, catching frogs.’ Captain Brown was most grateful, but didn’t want to impose more on her time. She sensed he thought it improper that she should walk alone with them, and that he was very curious how his young friend knew her by name. 

She gave them directions are best she could and said she had to get back before anyone started worrying. 

‘Perhaps Mr. Buxton could help me back up the hill? I would hate for his efforts to keep me from the mud to be in vain.’ This got him smiling again, and Edith felt a sense of accomplishment at that. He went up first, holding her hand firmly as they climbed together. Edith felt his gaze on her; her face for any signs of alarm, her feet for any signs of slipping. 

‘I had the pleasure of meeting your father yesterday,’ Edith remarked as they reached the top. Mr. Buxton looked at her with surprise, almost stumbling himself. 

‘My father?’ He had forgotten he was still holding her hand, but she was not about to draw attention to that fact. 

‘Yes, Mr. John Buxton, isn’t it? He was at Downton Abbey yesterday speaking with Lord Grantham about the railway. Mr. Whitby was there, though he left in a hurry. Then we had luncheon together.’ 

‘Did you, now? How extraordinary.’ He saw their hands and let go abruptly. ‘Excuse me, Lady Edith. Have a pleasant walk back.’ He stepped around her and began to carefully descend the hill. 

‘Wait, please, have I offended you?’ He turned and looked up at her. She wanted desperately to get him to smile again. He sighed, shaking his head. 

‘No, of course not, My Lady. Forgive me. My father and I are… not on speaking terms.’ 

‘I’m sorry I mentioned him.’ 

‘Don’t be, you couldn’t have known. I suppose he gave a passionate plea to Lord Grantham not to sell to the railroad?’ 

‘I wasn’t privy to their discussion, but I imagine it went something like that,’ Edith smiled, and some light came back into Mr. Buxton’s face. ‘He was guaranteed an attentive audience at least. I’m afraid we have that in common.’ 

‘How so?’ 

‘Our fathers are dead set against progress.’ Finally, his smile was back, even showing his nice white teeth. 

‘Yes, we do have that in common.’ The moment stretched out. Edith wanted it to last forever, but eventually she had to bring herself back to reality. 

‘How is it I haven’t seen you around town?’ 

‘I’ve been away at school for many years, since I was ten.’ A curious glint got into his eyes. ‘You don’t remember me at all, do you?’ 

‘Have we met before?’ 

‘No, not exactly.’ He grinned at a memory. ‘Me and some boys once teased you and your sisters during a fair in the town square, I think it was.’ Edith tried to conjure the event, but it was gone. 

‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember it at all.’ 

‘Hardly to be expected, but I’ve never forgotten it. You looked like little princesses in your dresses.’ They shared a smile again. 

‘I really should get back.’ 

‘Yes, of course. Goodbye, Lady Edith, and thank you for your help.’ He lifted his hat slightly and she said her goodbyes, watching as he disappeared down the hill. Her walk back was in a daze. She had solved the mystery of William Buxton, but her investigation had only just begun. 

XXX 

‘We shouldn’t be here,’ Edith argued, though it was not very convincing considering she wasn’t slowing her pace at all. Sybil pulled her along to the community hall. Mary followed at a more dignified pace. None of them should be there, especially alone, but the crowd of people from all walks of life made even them blend in. They pressed into the hall, half of which was taken over by a large table covered in cloth, something hidden underneath. They craned their necks to get a good look. 

Captain Brown and Mr. Whitby were standing by the table, waiting for the clock to strike one o’clock. 

‘Lady Edith.’ She turned to find Mr. Buxton, the younger, his hat already off as he greeted her. ‘I’m so glad to see you.’ 

‘You are?’ 

‘Yes, I hope you’ll tell Lord Grantham about our solution. Hopefully once he can experience the convenience of the railway, he will accept progress more easily in the future.’ 

‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’ She was a little disappointed in his speech, but smiled despite it. When Lady Sybil jostled her shoulder she was forced to make introductions. 

‘Lady Sybil, Lady Mary,’ Mr. Buxton greeted, nodding to each in turn as it was hard to move in the increasingly small space.

‘Mr. Buxton? Are you the son of Mr. Buxton the salt merchant?’ Mary asked. 

‘Indeed I am.’ Edith did not like the way Mary appraised him. She saw his beauty, no doubt, but would she see anything else? Unlikely, but it was therefore all the more important that Edith show no interest whatsoever herself. ‘Lady Edith was very interested in the ins and outs of the salt trade when Mr. Buxton dined with us a few weeks ago, weren’t you, Edith?’ 

‘I didn’t know anything about it, so of course I was interested in learning something new,’ she countered. ‘Shouldn’t we all be?’ 

Before Mary could make her retort, Captain Brown called for everyone’s attention. He and Mr. Whitby proudly showed off their scale model of Downton, with the new train station. It was a modern marvel, and Edith truly hoped it would become a reality soon. Just think of the time saved on their trip to London! 

‘You helped with the survey?’ She asked Mr. Buxton while the hall erupted in chatter. He had to lean close to hear her and smiled. 

‘I helped, but mostly I observed. Captain Brown has taught me so much.’ 

‘Do you hope to be an engineer?’ 

‘Yes, it is my dream.’ Before Edith could tell him how great she thought that was, the elder Mr. Buxton interrupted the proceedings. The crowd parted as he entered the hall. He ended up standing very close to them. 

‘I am afraid, Mr. Whitby, you have made a gross miscalculation. Your suggested route into the town passes over three houses your model has demolished.’ Edith saw William’s face pale as he realised their mistake. ‘I am not surprised. Those houses have a long and complicated history, and they do not border my estate, but I assure you the land they stand on is mine.’ Edith studied the model, and realised that without the space made by the removal of those three houses it would be impossible for the railway to come into Downton. 

Captain Brown looked crushed by the news. Mr. Buxton turned and stalked out of the hall, and his son followed. Edith did as well, hoping unashamedly to catch some of their conversation. William caught up with Mr. Buxton just across the road. 

‘Father, wait please, you must see reason.’ 

‘You have your reason, I have mine.’ 

‘You can not stand in the way of progress,’ William argued. ‘If you do, you condemn this whole town to suffer while the world goes on without them.’ Mr. Buxton rolled his eyes, and the movement caused him to glance over his son’s shoulder at Edith. 

‘Lady Edith,’ he greeted with a bow. ‘Forgive my son’s display. I hope you will assure Lord Grantham that I have no intention of letting the railroad knock down my tenants’ houses.’ 

‘I’ll be sure to tell him that, Mr. Buxton.’ He smiled at that. 

‘Allow me to introduce my son, William. He’s been away at school.’ It was clear the introduction was not desired, but Mr. Buxton could not let the three of them stand together without making it. 

‘We’ve met, briefly,’ Edith said. ‘Down by the railroad.’ This caused Mr. Buxton’s eyes to widen, for it implied Edith was aware of what sort of work his son engaged in. William looked surprised she admitted it, and he smiled at her in thanks. ‘He seems like a promising engineer, though I don’t know much about the profession.’ 

‘A dead end profession, I’m afraid,’ Mr. Buxton muttered. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, Lady Edith, I have real business to attend to.’ He tipped his hat and strode down the street. William looked after him, all happiness draining from him. When he looked back at her his usual happy smile was sad. 

‘Thank you for your kind words, but my father will never approve of my chosen path.’ 

‘Well, I admire you for it, for what it’s worth.’ 

‘It’s worth a great deal. No one has ever said that to me.’ He brightened slightly. Mary and Sybil caught up with them as the rest of the hall emptied. Mary had a calculating gleam in her eyes as she looked between the pair. 

‘It looks like the railroad won’t be coming into Downton after all, thanks to your father, Mr. Buxton.’ 

‘He is unlikely to sell.’ 

‘A pity.’ 

Edith frowned at Mary’s comment. She had been indifferent to the coming of the railroad, or agreed with Papa simply to be against the others. Now she was offering sympathy? Edith dreaded to know her true motive. 

‘I fear Downton will be left behind,’ Mary continued sadly. ‘What will people do if nothing passes through Downton because the railroad goes around it?’ 

‘That is exactly my argument, Lady Mary,’ William said, his attentive gaze now focused entirely on Mary. Edith felt that familiar feeling she always felt whenever a man did that. Everytime she disappeared in his eyes once he had discovered Mary. It stung all the more because she knew Mary had absolutely no interest in him other than to keep his gaze off Edith. 

‘We will have to keep working on Lord Grantham,’ Mary said with a sigh. ‘Maybe we can still convince him, if you keep at it with your father.’ 

‘Oh, I’m afraid I’m not-… I’m not in a position to argue with my father.’ Edith realised then the extent of the father/son split over this issue. William was not even welcome in his father’s house. Mary understood as well, and her interest in agitating Edith was superseded by her desire to end the conversation. 

‘Well, hope springs eternal. Good day, Mr. Buxton.’ 

‘Good day, Lady Mary, Lady Sybil, Lady Edith.’ She probably imagined that his smile was slightly brighter when he said her name, but she put the image in her head and kept it there all day.


	2. Chapter 2

Downton was at war. The sides were not split by age, position or gender. You never could be sure which side a person would chose; only that once a side was picked, it was final. Never had a difference of opinion created such an uproar. Lord Grantham’s refusal to sell to the railway company did not produce the show of loyalty he had hoped for. Many were upset that his Lordship had decided on behalf of the whole village that they should be without the railway. As Mr. Whitby and Co. created plans to take the tracks around the estates, the younger people of the village saw their opportunities for a bright future dwindling. 

Mr. Buxton was the wall on the other side of Downton. He and his Lordship were striking up quite the friendship across class lines, standing firm together against the delusional townspeople. 

As plans were finalized and the work on the tracks neared the place they would have to veer off course, it was decided that the nearest station would be well outside the town proper. Sybil was determined to walk from the town center to the place it would be to illustrate how impractical it was. Edith decided to tag along. Mary thought the whole idea was ridiculous, and had no interest in joining them. They would take the carriage to the station if they ever made use of the railway, so why on earth should they attempt to walk? 

Edith wore her favourite cream-coloured gown, with the fashionable long leg-of-mutton sleeves, and a shawl in forest green, with tassels on the pointed tips in front, dangling to just below her waist. She wore her matching bonnet with silk ribbon. 

Halfway there she knew that anyone without the use of a carriage would have trouble reaching the railway, especially if they had luggage with them. 

‘I think it’s down here,’ Sybil said as they spotted a newly cleared road that ran into the forest. After about five minutes of avoiding the deep tracks made by loaded carts, they came to a cleared area and the beginnings of a platform. Several men were at work building it. 

‘How exciting,’ Sybil said. ‘Would that we were in the middle of Downton.’ 

‘Rather than hidden away in the forest like this,’ Edith said. There he was again: Mr. Buxton. He had spotted them, and Edith braced herself as he came near. His smile was wide as always. 

‘Lady Edith, Lady Sybil.’ 

‘Mr. Buxton,’ they both greeted. 

‘Have you come to see the best we could do?’ Mr. Buxton said with self-deprecation. 

‘It is a shame it won’t come into Downton.’ 

‘Yes. The younger generation are already beginning their exodus.’ 

Sybil was very curious about the work, and was turned away from the conversation, meaning Mr. Buxton was focused almost entirely on Edith. 

‘We have tried speaking to Lord Grantham about a dozen times, but he won’t budge.’ 

‘You have tried, which is more than most could say. I admit I've given up on my father.’ 

‘He’s to dine with us tomorrow,’ Edith admitted. ‘I’m afraid them getting together will only strengthen their resolve.’ 

‘Sounds like a dream come true, for them.’ Mr. Buxton looked away, trying to hide his emotions. There was disappointment there, and shame. His voice was barely audible when he spoke. ‘Dining at the Manor with his Lordship.’ Edith frowned, wondering if Mr. Buxton had anything against the gentry. He did not appear the radical type, but then again he was very forward thinking. No, he was too kind to her to hide any political leanings of that sort. The thought occurred to her then that Mr. Buxton was ashamed of his father for being so eager to advance himself through mutual hatred of something he believed was a force for good. If only Mr. Buxton could come and dine with them. Perhaps the young could convince the old. 

‘I wish-’ Edith stopped herself before she said something she shouldn’t. Mr. Buxton caught her eye, and she had to look away quickly lest he see right through her. ‘I wish there was some way to get them here together so they could see what they’re doing.’ 

‘Perhaps I could get Captain Brown to invite them for a demonstration. If they could but feel the train’s power, maybe they could be convinced.’ 

‘That’s a capital idea!’ Sybil exclaimed, proving she had been listening after all. ‘Oh, please try to make it happen.’ 

‘I promise to speak to Captain Brown. I’m sure he can suggest it to Mr. Whitby, who can send a proper invitation to His Lordship and my father.’ 

The sound of a horse trotting down the road made them all turn to see Mary riding up. She was wearing a dark red gown with a matching tight-waisted jacket, looking fine enough for a parade. Edith always thought that gown made the white hint of her petticoat obscene. She wore a black top-hat with a veil. 

Mr. Buxton bowed as she approached, but Edith could not catch his expression. 

‘Lady Mary.’ 

‘Mr. Buxton,’ she said, barely glancing at her sisters. ‘I see work is coming along nicely, even if it is in the wrong place.’ 

‘Yes, it will be a nice station, despite its location. We were just discussing the possibility of a demonstration for His Lordship.’ 

‘How clever of you.’ Before Mr. Buxton could protest, which Edith could tell he was about to by his blush, Mary continued. ‘I’ll be sure to watch out for the invitation so His Lordship reads it in a good mood.’ She turned her gaze on her sisters. ‘We are wanted at the house. Branson is coming with the carriage to catch you on your way back. Mr. Buxton.’ He bowed as she said goodbye, and Edith hated how he looked after her until she disappeared into the trees. They all said their goodbyes, promising to encourage their respective parents to accept Mr. Whitby’s offer when it came. 

XXX 

Edith decided on her pale blue gown with the floral patterns on the skirt and sleeves. She would disappear as one with the forest while Mary stole the spotlight again. It was warm that day, so she only took a shawl, beautifully crocheted, and her best matching bonnet. It was not until she came down that she saw Mary was wearing red again. Edith never wore the colour. Her mother told her it drain her face. Sybil was fresh as a flower in yellow. 

Their mother had at first refused the invitation. Although she professed no interest in the railroad herself, she was modern enough to want her girls to benefit from the shortening distance to London. In the end her curiosity proved stronger than her fear of moving metal. She asked their housekeeper, Mrs. Hughes, to come along. Lady Cora held the woman’s opinion in high esteem, being a very pragmatic creature. Lord Robert had begun to suspect they would become a party rather than an expedition. Soon enough, Mr. Carson was asked to give his opinion (to balance out against Mrs. Hughes’ modernism). As an even bigger surprise the Lady Dowager insisted on coming. She would not let her opinions be made by others. 

They day arrived and they all packed into two carriages, heading for the newly finished station in the woods. 

Lord Robert oozed self-confidence. He had every intention of testing the railroad and finding it wanting. 

Mr. Buxton’s carriage was already there, and they spotted him talking with Captain Brown, his son standing quietly to the side with sad eyes. As they got out, he looked up and smiled. Edith fancied it was because of her, but she knew she was deluding herself. 

Once introductions and greetings had been made, Captain Brown announced he could hear the train arrive. Mr. Whitby was apparently on board. 

Edith heard it long before it turned the bend in the tracks. The noise was monstrous, but exciting rather than terrifying. She glanced at Mr. Buxton to her right and he caught her eye, grinning. She felt her heartbeat increase as the train approached, belching smoke and churning along quite quickly. Would it manage to stop in time? Mr. Buxton did not look the least alarmed. It whistled just as it slowed, making an awful noise as metal ground together to stop the huge wheels. 

The door to the first compartment marked “First Class” opened and Mr. Whitby leaned out, taking off his top hat and bowing. He then jumped down, quite a feat for such a short, round little man. 

‘Lord Grantham, Ladies and Mr. Buxton,’ he greeted in turn, bowing far too low for such an event. Edith could tell her father was not impressed with his showmanship. He gestured to the train with a wide swing of his arm. ‘Welcome to the future!’ Mary chuckled, and Sybil glanced at her in reproach, but she was half-giggling herself at the silly man. 

‘If you would all step on board we will take her for a spin!’ The plan was to take the train to where the tracks stopped, then reverse, as could apparently be done, back to the station. It was not a very long journey since they had some difficulty with the swampy areas. There was talk of a bridge that needing building, or draining the swamps altogether, to get past Downton without passing through her. 

Edith had only ever caught snippets of such news. Her father did not think want to encourage their “revolutionary mindsets” with talk of the railroad in the house. 

Being in her own thoughts, she did not notice how everyone was dividing into the compartments. Lord and Lady Grantham joined Mr. Whitby and the elder Mr. Buxton in the first “First Class” compartment. Lady Mary and Sybil got in with the Lady Dowager in the only other “First Class” compartment. Lady Edith had no interest in being crammed together with her sisters, so she hesitated. 

Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson, along with Branson and the other coachman, got into a “Third Class” compartment at the back. It appeared Captain Brown was staying behind. Edith felt at a loss as everyone found their places and she as usual was without one. 

‘Allow me,’ the young Mr. Buxton said suddenly, removing his hat and opening the compartment directly in front of them marked “Second Class”. She did not even glance to see if anyone noticed her getting in with him. His hand was cold even through her glove. Inside was a simple compartment with upholstered benches. She sat down facing the front of the train, and he sat opposite. He was very nice today, she thought. He wore his usual tan overcoat, but underneath he had a pale green waistcoat, double breasted, and a red scarf of good quality. He might have belonged in a coffee shop anywhere in Europe, but his hands betrayed his chosen life. Another callous had appeared, in the space between the thumb and index finger. 

‘How exciting,’ Edith said as she heard the whistle again. They both watched the window as the train lurched forward. Although she was not afraid, Edith still gripped the edge of the bench. The scenery began moving. By the time they were at the end of the station they were moving at a speed comparable to a horse-drawn carriage at a leisurely trot. 

It was noisy, and bumpy, but Edith hardly noticed. It was incredible. The forest moved as though she were gazing through a magic glass. Mr. Carson had mentioned the possibility of damaging the optic nerve at such high speeds, but Edith did not dare look away. 

They were still gaining speed! At this rate she feared they would shoot off the tracks at the first bend, but soon they leveled out. A laugh bubbled out of her, and she looked at Mr. Buxton. 

He was watching her, smiling, eyes full of emotion. She felt herself blush, but hoped he would see it only as excitement from the train. 

‘This is incredible,’ she said. 

‘Yes, it is. Do you think Lord Grantham will be convinced?’ 

‘I hope so. I can’t imagine never doing this again.’ 

‘I wish my father had half your spirit, Lady Edith.’ 

They were stopping already, she realised. 

‘I’m sure your father will see reason.’ 

‘I have no hope of that, I’m afraid. The only solution is if Lord Grantham changes his mind. If he does, my father will do the same.’ 

‘What will you do, once the railroad is built around Downton?’ 

‘Follow it, as far as they build it, and hope Captain Brown allows me to stay on.’ He glanced away. ‘There was a time when I doubted if I could keep at it. It was very hard work for someone who had never done an honest day’s work before, but-’ he smiled ruefully, one hand rubbing at his callouses. ‘I’ve grown accustomed to it, though I dread rain and cold like I never have before.’ 

Edith had no idea what to say to that. To leave the life of a gentleman to follow such a dream - it was unlike anything she had heard tell of. Her admiration increased even as she knew the distance between them was more insurmountable than ever before. Yet her heartbeat did not slow. 

‘What you have done is admirable,’ she said, unsure if he had heard her over the rumble of the train, but he smiled so she continued. ‘I can’t imagine what you have been through, but I hope one day your father will see how amazing it is.’ 

‘Thank you, Lady Edith. You’re far too kind to a lowly railroad worker.’ 

‘I think your actions mark you as a gentleman.’ It was true, she thought, his situation put a new light on many things. 

‘You are too generous, but thank you. Your words will keep me warm.’ 

The station rolled into view, and Mr. Buxton jumped out before helping her. If their hands lingered a bit more than was proper, it was surely Edith’s imagination. Mary and Sybil gave her looks, but no one else gave much thought to where she had been seated during their trip. They were far too busy discussing the future. 

‘I think, Mr. Whitby,’ Lord Grantham said, and all held their breath. ‘I shall be very happy to sell you a bit of my land.’ 

‘The world, and Downton, thanks you for your generosity Lord Grantham,’ Mr. Whitby said. Sybil clapped in excitement, while Lady Cora thanked her husband. 

The elder Mr. Buxton looked stunned, but then his face seemed to melt, and he nodded to himself. 

‘Mr. Buxton?’ Mr. Whitby asked, practically vibrating. 

‘You have proven the railway has a future,’ Mr. Buxton said. ‘And if you need any land from me, I shall be happy to provide.’ 

‘You are both generosity itself, gentleman. I think I’ll speak to my engineers and see which route is most cost-effective.’ 

‘You do that, but you will not spare any expense on the town’s station, I hope,’ Lord Grantham said. ‘We can’t have a simple plank-walk like this in the middle of Downton.’ 

‘Certainly not, My Lord. Downton shall have a station worthy of her.’ 

Edith could scarcely believe it. She and William exchanged a glance of surprise and delight. As everyone said their goodbyes, she searched for something to say. He turned towards her, anticipation in his face. 

‘Lady Edith,’ the elder Mr. Buxton interrupted their moment. 

‘Mr. Buxton, your son was just telling me of his plans for working on the railway.’ 

‘I should like to hear about that myself,’ he said, surprising William. ‘If you would come home after work, we might discuss it.’ He bowed to Lady Edith and left, leaving his son stunned. 

‘I hope that is a good sign,’ Edith said. 

‘I hope so too, Lady Edith.’ 

She had to go before the others noticed her prolonged conversation with him. They said their goodbyes quietly and she hurried back to the carriage as the others were getting in. 

XXX 

Mr. Carson was not pleased, but it couldn’t be helped. The Earl of Grantham wanted to dine with someone, and no social convention was going to stop him. Lady Edith could care less if they were dining with a salt merchant as long as he brought his son along. 

It was a celebration, but Edith saw it more as two gentlemen attempting to make the world forget their mistake. They had hoped that Patrick and his father would be visiting at the same time, but they had gone to Europe suddenly. It would be the family, with the Dowager, the two Buxtons, and Mr. Whitby. 

Edith wore her deep blue gown. The neckline showed off her shoulders to their advantage, and the fabric shimmered in the candlelight. It clinched her waist, and she loved the heavy skirt and the way her she could glide across the floor in it. She did her hair up with pearls scattered through her braids like stars, and wore a pearl necklace to match, with lace gloves as a final touch of white. 

Mary outdid her in every aspect of course. Her dress was purple, and made her skin ivory white. Neither Sybil nor their mother made much of a fuss with their appearance. It was only a dinner with two locals and a business man after all. This told Edith all she needed to know about Mary’s intentions. 

Edith wasn’t certain if their father knew William Buxton’s chosen profession, and hoped that if it came up in conversation he wouldn’t react badly. She doubted Mr. John Buxton wanted to talk about that fact much, even if they had reconciled somewhat. 

Everyone was shocked when the Buxtons arrived. The elder Mr. Buxton was a man of dignity with a square Roman face, so his son must take all his softer beauty from his mother. What made it shine was his clothes. He was in white-tie like all the men, but to Edith he wore it better. His blond hair was still long and curly, and this gave him the look of a lost prince. His smile was sincere and grateful. If Lord Grantham suspected the young man preferred working on the railroad to his father’s wealth, he did not show it. They were greeted as well as any guests to Downton Abbey. Mr. Whitby arrived soon after. It seemed like they had barely been seated in the salon before the dinner bell rang. 

Edith was seated between the Buxtons, and William had Mary on his left. Edith knew her game well enough. The Buxtons might be wealthy, but they were merchant class. The true Mary Crawley had no interest in speaking to William Buxton, but this night she was all smiles and compliments. When the time came to switch, William only did so when Mr. Whitby, sat to Mary’s left, asked her a question. 

‘Your father seems very glad to have you home,’ Edith said. 

‘I admit I am glad to be home, even if it is only until I move with the railroad further north.’ 

‘But you will have his support, even when you go?’ 

‘So he says.’ He glanced across from her at his father, who was in polite conversation with the Dowager. She wore a look of perpetual surprise to be speaking with someone from the merchant class. ‘I see he is regaling the Lady Dowager with the subtleties of the salt trade.’ 

Edith bit her cheek to keep from laughing, and he disguised his by drinking from his wine glass. They spoke some more of the railroad’s intended path, and briefly about his schooling and failed political career. Then it was time to switch again, and Edith had to turn from the young to the old, and watch as Mary gave her best smile to William.

After dinner Edith fretted with her dress while the women waited for the men to come through. She became conscious of Mary rising from her seat and gliding over to sit next to her. Edith smoothed out her dress and decided to keep calm. 

‘You and Mr. Buxton looked deep in conversation over dinner.’ Edith glanced sideways at her, surprised she would admit that William had appeared as interested in her as Mary. ‘It would be his crowning achievement after ingratiating himself with father so well. Edith the salt merchants wife does have a certain ring to it.’ Stung that she hadn’t anticipated Mary’s insult, Edith fumed silently and looked away. ‘If I were you I would aim lower. Although I suppose you’re ahead of me there - from salt merchant to railway worker.’ 

‘God, will you never cease your incessant wickedness?’ Edith hissed before she could stop herself. Mary raised an eyebrow at her, smug that she had gotten a reaction. ‘Why do you even care that I like speaking to Mr. Buxton? It is simple conversation about a topic that concerns us all. How is that a source of sport for you?’ 

‘Please,’ Mary rolled her eyes. ‘You have as much interest in the railroad as Mr. Buxton has in his son becoming an engineer.’ 

‘I do, actually. I am capable of having interests of my own.’ 

‘Your only interest is in Mr. William Buxton’s blond hair and blue eyes.’ 

‘Can you, for once, not be cruel?’ Edith hated the pleading in her voice, but she was so tired of fighting. 

‘Cruel?’ Mary sounded genuinely surprised. ‘I am only trying to stop you from making an utter fool of yourself.’ She suddenly took Edith’s hand, forcing her to look into her eyes. ‘His smiles are beautiful, I do not deny it, but do not be fooled. He is his father’s son.’ 

Edith gasped as Mary’s meaning hit her. Of course William was just as his father, working to ingratiate himself to the family. Never let it be believed, not in a million years, that he could be enjoying their conversations as much as Edith for their simple pleasure. There was not a single man in all of England, perhaps the world, who could claim that. 

Edith snatched her hand away. 

‘You may view every interaction through your cynical lens, but Mr. Buxton has no secret agenda.’ 

‘Really?’ Mary asked sarcastically. ‘If he thought for a moment he could have me instead of you, his head would turn so quickly I fear it would snap.’ 

‘You’re wrong,’ Edith said, all snide wit failing her. ‘He is not like that. We are simply having-... conversations. We agree on the issues at hand. It is-’ Mary was smiling condescendingly, making ugly dimples in her face. She shook her head, rising without letting Edith finish just as the doors opened and the men returned. She walked straight to William Buxton, catching his arm and smiling at his surprised face. She asked some question Edith couldn’t catch, and he nodded. They moved together to the far corner of the room where some of Mr. Whitby’s plans still lay on the table. Edith watched with growing dread as William became animated as he pointed to some drawing. 

Edith’s attention was drawn away when Mr. Buxton the elder sat down next to her. She tried to keep up with his conversation. Luckily he was taken over by Mr. Whitby and Lord Grantham. The three had found common ground now hostilities has ceased. Edith slipped away from all conversation, finding herself alone on the smallest sofa. She wondered how often she had found herself thus, and if it would ever be the reverse - if she could ever find herself the object of entertainment while Mary sat sipping tea in a corner. 

She watched as Mary touched William’s arm, laughing at some joke. The room became hot suddenly. She made excuses and said goodnight to those close enough to notice her departure. 

Her night was restless. 

In the morning her mother found her reading in the library, though she barely saw the words. Cora sat down opposite her with a face that spoke of the conversation ahead. Edith put down her book. 

‘I know William Buxton is very beautiful.’

‘Mother, please.’ Edith looked away. 

‘Hear me out, I must speak plainly. He is beautiful, and an admirable and promising young man.’ 

‘But he is the son of a salt merchant and an engineer’s apprentice?’ 

‘No- yes, he is those things,’ Cora admitted. ‘But he is also not here to be sport for you two.’ 

‘Sport?’ Edith exclaimed. ‘I was not-’ 

‘You two were turning his head this way and that all through dinner,’ Cora admonished. ‘You gave him ideas, and that is cruel and not like you.’ Edith knew it was pointless to argue, but she still had to bite her lip to keep herself from shouting. ‘We will be leaving for London soon, and you will forget all about him. By the time we return he will be gone, and I think that’s for the best. Agreed?’ 

‘Yes, of course.’ 

‘Good. And try not to let Mary bait you in the future. London has men enough for both of you.’ Unlikely, Edith thought morosely. Cora rose, patting Edith on the shoulder as she passed. 

A walk would do her good, Edith decided. It was either walk or scream, and she was a good walker.


End file.
